


a mighty need

by troubleseeker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Breeding, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Grace - Freeform, Grace Bondage, Hand Jobs, Incest, Kidnapping, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Bites, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rutting, So much come, Somnophilia, Stripping, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wincestiel - Freeform, Wing Oil, Wink kink, angelnapping, ass to ass, but then, come drunk, grace drunk, induced rut, misuse of grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: Witches catch Cas, and start trying to milk him but his resolve is stronger than their magic, so they just end up edging him for hours and hours, and hours ... and then Dean walks in and ganks the witches ... and Cas’ celestial wavelength of edged intent to come finds a target!!! Once Dean is filled up and a bit sleepy, Castiel calls in the cavalry … and one lone moose answers the call.





	a mighty need

The room looked exactly like you’d expect of a well established coven of witches. Predictably gloomy, with most of the windows hidden away behind layers of heavy curtains. Ancient looking benches littered with spell ingredients and quaint little cauldrons that were sold as halloween decorations at hobby lobby one year but ended up being surprisingly useful, pentagrams of all shapes and sizes, and indecipherable spellwork scrawled on furniture and wallpaper to tie it all together. 

The aesthetic eye needed pleasing just as much as The Dark Lord, and it helped put newer members at ease. People expected certain things when they turned to witchcraft instead of the basic herb burning and crystal placing. 

And no way were these women playing around with crystals now.

A nearly empty bucket of pig’s blood - you can buy those at your local butcher if you don’t have a sacrificial swine of your own walking around - sat in a corner. Most of its contents had been smeared on a cleared wall in intricare symbols that glowed a nicely theatrical red as they surged with power. 

Caught in this net of charms, Castiel hung stubbornly mute from a large wooden pentagram. Hands feet and neck attached to the structure’s arms with glowing hemp ropes. He’d been summoned into the circle forty-eight hours ago, and - unable to access his grace - had been naked and tied down for over forty-seven of them. 

A gaggle of robe clad women could be surprisingly persuasive when they knew what they wanted.  

“You can do it angel, give in. Give in to  _ us _ .”

Unlike the demon worshipers from last week, or the angel cult from two months ago, these witches weren’t interested in his grace or feathers. No. these women wanted babies. Powerful babies. Nephilim, babies. 

And for that, they needed sperm. 

“Just come, angel. We only need one orgasm and then you’re free to go.  _ Maybe  _ two.”

Cas stared straight ahead; ignoring the woman and her compatriots. There were three of them working him at all times. When one of them grew tired, another took over without giving him a second to breathe easily.

The first was assigned to his penis. Cycling through several strange but wonderful toys that slipped over his dick and engulfed it in a slick warm channel that  _ moved _ .

The second worked his prostate with dogged determination. First with fingers, but moving on to a strange buzzing wand that fit perfectly inside his ass when he hadn’t buckled under the pressure. He still hadn’t, though it became much, much harder to concentrate. 

The third and last woman had joined in the depravity once they figured out how to force him to manifest his wings, and of the three she was the one who had managed to make him twitch; once. Like blood in the water, that one tiny movement had spurred them onward.

First just grooming him, but once they found his oil glands, well … he’d been dripping thick golden wing oil ever since. Most of his back was already covered in the stuff, and every so often they’d massage it into the rest of his wings. If the whole ordeal wasn’t very non-consensual he’d be over the moon with how well conditioned his feathers would be after this.

It was hard to remember that he did not want this. Hard to remember not to do as they coaxed and give in. 

The physical sensations were near overpowering. With his wings stimulated, the instinctual need to breed was mounting with every passing second.

It was all he could do to stay firm.

Dean and Sam would find him. They would find him, and set him free.

Dean and Sam would come.

All he had to do was wait for the Winchesters.

Soon.

_ Soon _ .

He wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes, but Castiel heard the shots and the screams before he saw the door violently exit its frame. Dean swirled around the open doorway, and fired quick and precise shots. The women still standing scattered, and the one who’d just taken over rubbing his oil glands took cover behind his back.

It did not save them.

Cas had been summoned straight into the space he still inhabited, but plenty of witches had been filing in and out of the room to know that there was more to their coven than this one chamber.

“Dean!” He called out, finding his voice around the wand still buzzing away inside of him. “Behind me.”

Whoever the final witch was, made a last ditch attempt to fight. Peeking over Castiel’s shoulder she threw a spell towards the angel's rescuer, but he nudged her hand up and it glanced harmlessly off the ceiling. Dean rounded the pentagram, and that was the end of it. 

Castiel sagged into his bonds; He’d waited for Dean, and Dean had come. He could stop now, he no longer had to hold back with everything he had.

“I held out, Dean. I didn’t give them a single thing.”

Slipping his gun into it’s holster, Dean grabbed his knife; sawing quickly through the spelled restraints. With each tie falling away, Castiel could feel his repressed power surge. It fueled his hunger, his need.

“That’s good, Cas. You did great.”

Dean stepped away, turning to scrape at the runes that still corralled the angel. 

“Took us a while to track you cause you’re a couple of states over. But you can relax now. Sammy’s taking care of everything outside. So- uh- yeah- relax.”

The oldest Winchester bent over to scratch at the last glowing squigle of blood, and Castiel could feel that last barrier falling away. 

Free to move as he wished, Cas removed the irksome toy. It was nothing more than an annoyance now, but he wanted it gone before he moved on to more important tasks. Focussed on his new goal, and blissfully unstimulated, he stepped up behind Dean’s shapely rear end. 

“Ok. Are your clothes here somewhere - Cas?”

Unable to further control himself, Castiel grabbed Dean’s hips; dragging the other man closer as he ignored the odd noises coming from his chosen partner in favour of stripping him; the man was wearing too many layers for the happy occasion. He pulled down, and pulled again. Dean’s jeans stayed put.

Castiel growled.

The fact that Dean’s clothes didn’t want to move away as swiftly as he wanted them to, irked the angel. He’d waited so long already, he was not going to be hindered by  _ denim _ .

Dean squawked, scrambling to do  _ something _ , but Castiel did not have the time for any of this. He'd waited for Dean, and Dean was here now. He would wait no longer. 

“Cas? What did they do? What’s going on? Cas? Talk to me  _ buddy! _ ”

Taking a firm hold of the fabric just below Dean’s tailbone, he tore the offending jeans at the seams. The noise was satisfying, so he did it again. Ripping and tearing through denim and flannel till Dean lay flushed and naked in the midst of useless scraps of fabric. 

Better.

Dean’s voice changed in pitch dramatically when Castiel knelt on the floor between his legs. He’d needed to spread them before he could take his rightful place when Dean had seemed intent on keeping them closed. Who would have thought that the great Dean Winchester would end up being shy?

He would change that. Dean would open like a flower before him, and it would be perfect.

The hunter continued to squirm, so Castiel was forced to keep him in place. After a few heated seconds of irritation, the angel eased his hold and smiled benevolently down at Dean. His own needs were blinding him, and that would not do. Dean was a mere human, and humans were not known for their self control. He would have to understand his mate’s inability to hold still, and stand firm for the both of them.

No matter how shy he was pretending to be - Castiel enjoyed the clench of Dean’s legs around his waist, a mere token protest for their first coupling - Dean was eager. Too eager.

If the necessary precautions weren’t taken, this would be less pleasurable than it could be, and that would  _ not _ do. No, he would contain himself, for the both of them, and do this properly. They deserved it, the both of them. No matter how deliciously wanton Dean looked like this. 

“Soon, Dean. Soon.” He hushed, palming his lover’s cheek as his grace surged. The reminder was for him as well. With the dam holding back his desire now broken he couldn’t lose himself in the urge to breed - yet. He was ancient, he could wait. 

With a thought, the angel had his essence snaking around Dean’s extremities to keep him contained. It was a gentle embrace, meant to sooth his partner and keep him from hurting himself in his quest for copulation. Aware of Dean’s needs, Castiel made sure he focussed on more than just restraining. It was an easy adjustment that let his grace stimulate Dean’s freckled skin in a deep waves.

Dean tensed, checking his bonds, but Castiel assured him they would not harm him, nor would it harm him to wait a slight bit longer. Humans were such impatient creatures.

“I waited for you for so long, Dean. I’m sure you can wait another minute.”

A simple shift in reality got rid of Castiel’s own wardrobe. A useless human distraction that served no social purpose at the moment. He would don his trenchcoat again once he’d satisfied his and Dean’s hunger. 

He made to conjure up lubricant, when he realised such human inventions were not necessary. He would open Dean on the only substance worthy of the righteous man’s entrance. His own sanctified wing oil. The witches had tried to use his celestial form for their own vile purpose, this would cleanse them. 

His grace tilted Dean’s pelvis upwards as he reached behind his back to coat his fingers liberally with the oil the witches had forced him to produce. It would not go to waste. Silver linings really did appear in the strangest of places.

Unwilling to draw out the proceedings, Dean was making all sorts of ungodly noises, Castiel slipped two fingers home from the start. He knew Dean could take it, would take it again, would take more. 

“I waited so long, Dean. I waited for  _ you _ .”

He’d built this body from the ground up. He knew what Dean could do, what he was built like, what he could achieve with just a bit of angelic assistance. A third finger pressed at Dean’s rim, traced the sensitive skin there just to feel Dean stutter before pushing it inside that tight heat. He had no idea why they’d never done this before. This was everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Dean gasped, and Castiel knew the human was lost in awe. Not many had ever laid eyes upon an angel’s wings, let alone felt the tingling warmth of grace infused oil. This had to be a divine experience.

His lover strained against Castiel’s grace, twisting from side to side as waves of pleasure rolled across him.

“Cas.” 

How glorious his name sounded on the hunter’s lips, Castiel curled across the valley of Dean’s twitching stomach to deliver a chaste kiss in answer.

“Soon, Dean.”

He spread his fingers wide, and his free hand followed the gesture where it lay on Dean’s pectorals. His partner’s chest heaved with each breath, but the righteous man’s need for oxygen stuttered once Castiel’s fingers brushed his nipple. Castiel’s lips crooked up into a smile.

“Sensitive?”

Dean shuddered, looking away in shame. The blush made Castiel redouble his efforts, pressing down on his lover’s prostate while he brushed across the delicate nub of skin. His wing oil was making it easier to infuse Dean with his grace, strengthening the pathway of pleasure that already ran between the erogenous zones. 

“You are perfect, Dean Winchester. Never try to hide your pleasure from me. Ever. Now relax, my love. You’ve done all you needed to, let me take control of this … of you.”

The man was babbling, straining against Castiel’s restraints but the angel could see his eyes roll back in pleasure as he blasphemed. 

“Good.” Castiel rumbled, pushing the tip of the third finger inside once he felt the hunter relax. “I waited for you, Dean. But you also waited for me, and this patience will be rewarded so soon, so so soon.”

He spread his fingers, soaking in Dean’s unmuted cries of pleasure. Castiel felt no need to muffle the noise. If there was a way for the whole world to know of this impending ecstasy, he would shout if from the mountaintops. Though perhaps Dean would prefer the sanctity of this room, of their personal bond. 

For all his bluster and bravado, Dean wasn’t one to overshare. No, he kept his loves close to his heart. Castiel would respect that … plus, he did not have the time to bother with anything other than getting his dick nice and secure within Dean’s embrace. If Dean had not required the extra time and effort, they would already be copulating.

Dean sagged in his bonds, gasping for air when Cas pulled his fingers back out of the clenching embrace of his hole. Open and accepting, if only he were prepared already.

“Almost, Dean. Almost. Soon we will be one.”

More wing oil, more fingers, more pressing and stretching. More oil. More kisses. More oil. More breathing. More oil. More curses and cries of pleasure. Till the hunter’s ass was dripping.

“Please, Cas. Please”

Dean groaned, and Castiel understood. Enough was enough. Dean was ready for him, so open they would join without a hitch.

He gathered his mate into his arms, curling his arms and wings around them protectively as he positioned Dean. Legs held wide, hovering above Castiel’s lap with his head thrown back like a sacrificial lamb. 

Castiel mouthed a path where a blade might spill a lesser being’s blood. He could feel Dean’s life pulsing by, faster and faster. 

“No more waiting.” He growled, and his hands fit around Dean’s ribcage like they were made to be there. Perhaps they had been. 

He pulled, grace pushing with him and Dean screamed.

The righteous man’s arms fell wide open as Castiel split him wide open, arching further back as he was held up by Castiel’s grace, and Castiel’s cock. It was a glorious sight.

It felt even better. Castiel dug his fingers into the spaces between Dean’s ribs, pulling him in, pulling him down till there was nowhere to go. 

At last.

He and Dean were one.

The man in his arms was breathing shallow and quick, overcome with ecstacy no doubt. Castiel certainly was. With his dick as deep as it could go, he pulled the rest of Dean closer. Nosing against the exposed and vulnerable stretch of Dean’s throat as they embraced. 

He murmured his gratitude into Dean’s skin, wings near vibrating with emotion.

Lovers, at last.

Savouring every moment, Castiel canted his hips back; dragging his dick from the welcoming clench of Dean’s hole without letting an inch of space come between them. He could feel Dean’s heart beating against his own chest, and he did not wish to relinquish that comfort.

“Cas, Cas please.”

He hushed his mate, kissing a nearby smattering of freckles before shoving back into his welcoming body. It felt good, so good in fact that that he pulled out again only to push his way back inside of Dean at once, and then he did it again, and again, and again.

Castiel’s nails dug into skin as he tightened his hold, and Dean was gasping in a way that meant he wasn’t getting enough air, but Castiel couldn’t make himself stop. There would be no more waiting. He’d found his mate, and he would breed him come hell or high water.

And breed Dean he did. It took less than two minutes for the angel to reach his first orgasm, and it was glorious. Pressed as deep as he could go, the feeling of  _ finally _ was overwhelming. Only later, when he was once again moving in and out of his mate’s body, did he notice that he’d lost himself to the point of claiming.

He licked at the ring of teeth marks in a silent apology. The bonding was something that was bound to happen, but he’d have liked for Dean to be slightly more aware of what they were doing. But this was good too. He’d explain why he’d bitten him in a week or so, when he’d finished scratching his itch.

All that mattered was the rhythmic snap of his hips. Hands in Dean’s hair, and mouth plastered to Dean’s mouth, Castiel worked himself to his second, and then third orgasm. Dean’s hole getting progressively more sloppy without the vast lake of desire within the angel ever waning. 

Castiel pushed more grace into Dean, reaching between to coax the hunter towards his own pleasure. He was still holding Dean tight after all, there was no way for the man to help himself along. Dean was doing so well, he deserved to feel what Cas was feeling. 

Beyond words for a while now, Dean’s body did what Castiel wanted it to do; he came. And the sensation that followed was so good that the angel allowed the man to come every time he did. Sometimes twice in a row. Sometimes right before Cas was about to come.

He couldn’t decide which time was the best to have Dean scream in ecstacy, so he’d have to test it. Science had never been this much fun.

There were few things as beautiful as the righteous man overcome by physical sensation.

The way Dean’s consciousness rushed back into his body right before he went over the ledge was glorious. His eyes would go wide, and he’d stare right into Castiel’s. So green, and full of love and lust.

He’d stutter, every muscle tense as he eagerly anticipated yet another release, straining against the grace still holding him safe. Castiel would count the microseconds, enthralled with each and every single one of them. One breath, two heartbeats, and Dean spurted across the both of them; clenching rhythmically around the cock pistoning in and out of him like he couldn’t bear to lose it. 

After Dean’s fifteenth climax, and Castiel’s twentieth, the angel noticed that not only was the hunter coming dry, he was ever so slightly less enthusiastic about the proceedings. 

His mate was probably just tired. 

Using his grace to cushion Dean’s naked back, Castiel laid them out on the floor without ever losing his rhythm. He peppered kisses all over his mate’s face, nudging and cooing at him till vibrant green eyes fluttered open and somewhat focused on him. Castiel smiled, reaching down to stimulate the other man’s erection once more now that he had his full attention again. He’d barely stroked the soft, slick skin once, when Dean came. 

Castiel licked away the tears of joy falling down Dean’s face. 

Five orgasms later, Castiel grew frustrated with Dean’s inability to join him his climax. Dean was a virile man, how could he be this tired so soon? 

Less overcome now by his own needs - Dean’s belly was full of Castiel’s seed, and it placated some of his instincts, Dean would catch soon enough and then all would be well - he cast his mind back. Dean had spoken to him when he first released him. It had been hard to find him, the rescue had taken time.

Of course.

Dean had been hunting the coven down for two days, and Castiel knew Dean did not rest well when those he loved were in harm’s way. 

“Sleep, my love.” 

He redirected his grace, no longer stimulating Dean, but helping him find peace in sleep. The hunter did not need to be awake to be bred.

Gazing upon Dean’s face, so soft in sleep, Castiel resumed his movements. More gentle now, even though Dean would not wake, he chased his own pleasure over and over. 

It was different now that his mate was sleeping. Softer and easier now that the adrenaline rush that followed when the other man came was no longer present. 

A different flavor, but equally delicious. 

Castiel gorged himself on Dean till he crested and diving right back in as soon as he had. If he had his way, this would never  _ ever _ end. 

It was a while later that Castiel realised that Dean was sinking deeper and deeper into his sleep. Suddenly frantic, he pulled his human close, pushing warmth and grace against him, but Cas knew it wouldn’t be enough. Dean was fading, unable to cope with Castiel’s needs though he tried valiantly to be all that was asked of him. 

The angel had carved a space out for himself inside of the hunter and willed his grace to heal what was ailing his mate, but Dean was not returning to him; lost to the all consuming pleasure that had pulled both of them under.

Anger surfaced suddenly.

No. No way was he losing Dean. But no way was he interrupting the proceedings. 

If Dean wasn’t enough to satisfy his instincts, then he’d need to find someone to join them, and he knew just where to find him. 

Sam had been pounding away at the only door for a while now, and the angel could sense him nearby. Castiel had been keeping the room contained with a stray string of grace to protect Dean’s modesty … but the brothers had shared so much already. What was an act of love between creatures that had saved the world together?

He let the latch slide out of its home, and the door opened an inch or two. Castiel could feel the large mass behind the wall - Sam, obviously - freeze. The hunter was cautious, perfectly willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Sam.” Castiel called out.

“Cas?” The younger Winchester was cautious, and Castiel could not blame him. He might have been keeping everyone else out of the room, but he hadn’t been concerned with keeping anything  _ in _ . Sam would have been privy to their coupling, and to the untrained ear it might have sounded like Dean was less enthusiastic than he was. “You ok?” 

“We’re ok, Sam. But Dean needs some help.”

The words might as well have been a summoning spell. Sam pretty much teleported into the room; gun low, eyes scanning the silent space for possible assailants.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, still somehow not spotting his brother sleeping under Castiel’s winged form.

He didn’t bother responding, just reached out and grabbed Sam; slamming the door shut in the same instant. The taller human was more energetic than Dean had been, but he was held down just as easily.

Tendrils of grace enveloped Sam’s arms and legs in quick succession, and disarmed the hunter in one go. Bullets would not hurt  _ him _ but he would never risk his mate’s health. He carded his fingers through the sleeping man’s hair, soothing him while sam yelled.

“Calm down, Sam. You’ll wake Dean, and he needs to rest.”

And Sam would help with that. Once he stopped freaking out and Cas got his dick inside of him, Dean would perk right up. 

“Stop yelling.” He pulled the other man close, booted feet dragging across the floor as he continued to struggle. “I doubt you wish to attract an audience for this.”

He knew Sam was even more private about his love life … not that Castiel could actually sense anyone still breathing inside the building. They were alone for this, and that was good. He perched Sam to the right of Dean’s relaxed form, reaching for Sam’s clothes with one hand; the other remained firm on Dean’s hip, preventing him from accidentally slipping out.

“You won’t be needing those.”

Where he’d used brute strength to tear Dean’s garments to rags, Castiel used his grace to assist him in stripping Sam. One handed pulling would have been less effective, and the itch was returning. He did not have the patience to wait for Sam to do this himself. It was slightly less satisfying, but it was still a gratifying experience. 

Fully nude, he twisted Sam around. It took Castiel a second to get them all situated. 

He pulled Sam’s legs apart, enjoying the way the well developed muscles tried their best to pretend coiness. The second human fit perfectly over Dean’s waist, knees just shy of touching his brother’s sides, feet spread wide enough to accomodate Castiel’s own legs. 

Sam’s long arms made it harder to see Dean’s face though, so Castiel pulled them back and secured them at the small of the large human’s back. Grace curled around Sam’s arms from his wrists to his shoulders; they would not be getting in the way.

He reached behind himself for more of his wing oil, and stretched the appendage far enough to stroke a feather down Dean’s freckled face. 

“See? He’s safe. Cared for.” Dripping with fresh oil, Cas slid a single finger into Sam’s waiting hole; ass held wide open wide with a thought. “Isn’t he beautiful, Sam?”

With the younger hunter now more easily available, Castiel felt safe to use both hands; stroking the soft skin above Sam’s tailbone. His dick was safe and wet, and soon it would find a new home.

“I should have had you in here from the start, but you know how Dean gets. He can be so impatient.”

Sam was making a whole other range of sounds than Dean. He was breathier, panting against the cushion of grace that kept him from face planting on top of Dean’s gently rising and falling chest. 

Castiel opened him up just as diligently as he’d stretched his brother. He caught Sam throwing his eyes back towards him, arching his neck as far as it could go. No doubt admiring the angel behind him. 

“It’s a privilege to be this close to my wings, Sam. A privilege reserved for you and Dean. Those witches had no business gazing at them. Your brother saw to punishing the ones still in this room, and I know you visited my wrath upon those outside.” He aimed for Sam’s prostate, sliding oiled fingers across the bundle of nerves. “Let this be a token of my thanks.”

When he felt sure that Sam would not feel discomfort, Castiel added a second finger. It let him spread Sam wide in a new and wonderful way. Not many people had seen this side of the hunter; inside of him.

“How many people have had you like this, Sam?” He demanded suddenly, jealousy rising out of nowhere. He’d known much of Dean’s lifestyle, his casual sex … he’d been prepared to not be the first. But Sam? The boy was a mystery. “Tell me.”

“No one, Cas. No one. Please.” Sam panted, wide eyes rolling back when Castiel pressed deeper, spread him wider, opened him up. 

“Good.” Castiel heard himself snarl, and then he leaned forward and stuck his tongue right besides his fingers; grace lifting Sam high enough that Dean was not disturbed.

The feel of his own grace infused oil on his tongue was a novel experience, and one that was only improved by Sam’s essence. It was so good in fact, that it made him lose track of time. By the time he was thinking clearly again, Sam was a moaning mess, and there were four fingers sliding around Castiel’s tongue instead of two, which was just as well. He would not be waiting another second.

Leaving Dean’s loving embrace was not easy, but the beacon that was Sam’s glistening hole called louder than his grief. He would be the first to do this to the boy, ever. 

The gear switch from static to fucking like he meant it was sudden. Castiel hadn’t been aware of just how pent up he still was. No wonder Dean had been all tuckered out.

Leaning forward, Castiel mouthed at Sam’s shoulder. He would mark this Winchester too. There would be no preference between either of his mates. He would love them equally. He would breed them equally.

His hands were vices around Sam’s waist - so much smaller than he’d thought - as he worked himself towards his first release. He wanted it. No. He craved it. He needed it. And so did Sam.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” He murmured into Sam’s hair sometime after his fifth orgasm. Sam was even slicker now, and the sloppy slide of his dick was probably dripping a whole host of oil and semen onto Dean’s still belly. “It’s so hard to concentrate.” He confessed, kissing his way down to Sam’s very own bite mark. “You just feel so good, Sam.”

There was no space between the three of them to jerk Sam off, so Castiel lowered him instead. With each thrust, Sam’s erection now slid through the slick puddle of Dean’s come; caught between their bellies in a land of sweet friction. 

“It’s only right that you feel good too.” 

Sam whined. His struggles had ceased once Castiel came that first time, but this would hopefully perk the human up a bit. Dean had certainly become more and more energetic with each peak.

“And you will, Sam. You’ll feel so, so good.”

And Sam did feel good. He felt amazing. Warm, and tight in ways that felt similar to Dean but also different in every way that mattered. 

His breaths deeper and slower than Dean.

His whines sharper, his pleas for pleasure more frequent and accompanied by full body shudders.

And when he came, Sam didn’t pulse so much as he clenched; holding Cas tightly as his entire body tried to stretch. 

When Sam was reaching orgasm seven when Castiel felt Dean stir. 

“Good morning, Dean.”

Sam made a wordless sound, sweaty body writhing within the hold of Castiel’s grace as he came, and Dean blinked back into consciousness. 

The older Winchester was momentarily confused, whimpers fumbling from his throat when he found he could not move. And when he spotted Sam floating an inch or two above him, he growled.

Castiel laughed, sending a wave of soothing grace through his first mate. 

“Be calm, my love. Sam is not here to take your place.” He leaned down, pecking at Dean’s plush lips. “You are both loved. Both cared for.”

Dazed, Dean nodded. Castiel kissed him again, turning his face to deliver some of his love to Sam as well. 

“Good.”

An idea called out to him, and Castiel loosened the hold he had on Sam’s torso. With his pelvis already flush against Dean’s, lowering his chest another inch or so put them both at the perfect height to-

“Kiss.” He commanded, and they obeyed him. 

His mates would love him and each other equally. A scant step up from the brotherly bond they already shared. 

With that perfect view, Castiel had no problem finding his latest release. But it felt wrong to give all of his energy to Sam now that Dean was no longer resting. 

So he switched, pulling out of Sam’s eager clutch to thrust into Dean’s waiting embrace. The older man pulled away from his brother’s plush lips to scream his ecstacy, and Castiel could feel Dean jerk against the grace still embracing him. The hunter wanted to move.

Castiel let him.

He couldn’t bear to just cut Dean loose, but he could give the man some slack. An instant later, the angel was very pleased with his decision. 

Dean took his newly granted mobility, and rolled with it. Reaching up to grab at Sam’s face and pull himself up into another heated round of kisses while his hips moved along with Castiel’s movements, grinding the hard line of his dick into Sam’s belly. The movement also stimulated Sam, who seemed very grateful for it now that his ass was empty. 

Castiel glanced down to see streams of white dribble from the younger hunter’s hole. Not so empty after all, and that was how it was meant to be. 

Neither of his mates would ever have to be empty or alone again. 

When he felt sated enough, he’d take them back to the bunker - and baby, he would never forget baby - and they’d make a nest together. A great big nest where they would breed and love, and be together.

It was a great thought to come to, fresh come mixing with the virtual treasure trove already pumped deep within Dean. He held still, letting Dean use his pulsing dick to grind his way to his own release. 

The sight was so erotic, that Castiel ignored his near non-existent refractory period all together and came again when Dean did.

Sam whined; that was the second orgasm Dean got in a row. The angel frowned.

He’d need to figure out a way to please them equally.

He switched back to Sam’s ass, and picked up his earlier pace as he contemplated the difficulties of his situation. There had to be an easy solution.

When Dean had been recuperating, it had been easier. But fucking one of them till they needed a nap before switching to the other seemed insensitive. On the other hand, keeping track of who had had how many loads and making sure they were equal would be too complicated.

He pushed deep within Sam, pulling the young man’s body flush with his own and holding him still while erratic thrusts careened him over the edge yet again; the feeling of reaching orgasm within his mate would never get old.

Dean growled, squirming aggressively underneath his brother; demanding Cas return to him. Cas stroked his face again; soothing the man’s hunger. 

“Relax, Dean. I’m here.”

The move from Sam’s leaking hole to Dean’s was easy, so easy in fact, that he moved back to Sam’s just to see how it felt. It felt good. He did it again.

And again. Dipping his dick in Sam’s heat, drawing it out again, and shoving home into Dean’s happy hole. Then back, and forth, back, and forth.

Both brothers seemed to enjoy his new technique, keeping their hips still enough while he plowed them. Dean had a small, perhaps unfair advantage. He could use his hands, and he used them well. Holding Sam still for kisses, and to the side to lick and bite at his neck. 

Castiel could see that the younger man was getting frustrated with his own bondage. Eager to reciprocate. Castiel gave him the same leeway as his brother. There was no longer a danger of the men hurting themselves or each other.

Quite the contrary. 

“Your brother has exceptionally sensitive nipples, Sam.” he informed, as Sam rolled his shoulders. “I want you to make him squeal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://ryugarika.tumblr.com/) ... feel free to, I can take it.
> 
> Comments feed me!


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